


Beezee29

by L_Greene



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Online Dating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 21:39:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_Greene/pseuds/L_Greene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU! Lu is a bored heir whose latest obsession is one beezee29, an online hottie whose rock hard body and filthy imagination lends itself to hours of enjoyment. The only problem is, Lu's never met him or even seen his face. Pretty much just porn and sexually-frustrated Lucifer. I'm not sorry. Primarily Balcifer, mentions of Samifer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Body on My Screen, Part One

The hustle and bustle of the coffee shop is a welcome relief for Lu, who needs constant, mind-numbing activity to function properly. It's why he took this job in the first place, even though the twenty-six-year-old isn't hurting for money. His dad owns one of the biggest snack food companies in the country—he could kick back somewhere on a private island and watch the money pour in.

But Lu isn't content to just sit around and do nothing. He's too hyperactive for that. He gets bored too easily. That's really how his current problem got started anyway.

Lately, he's become obsessed with this guy he met on an online dating site—if Hook3dUp.com, the Internet's premier guy-on-guy hookup site, can be considered a "dating site"—and it's been going... well, in one sense and terribly in another. It's going well because he and beezee29 have an insane amount of sexual chemistry, considering they've never actually met and Lu's never even seen his face (only his body, which is undeniably drool-worthy). The sheer volume of filthy messages (and the contents thereof) they've sent each other over the past few weeks is enough to make him want to take a five-minute break, duck into the bathroom, and beat off.

This is also why it's going terribly. Beezee29 and his raunchy messages are driving Lu—who goes by the username sillysatan since his name is short for Lucifer—to the point of distraction, spilling over from his nightly Internet surfing and into his daytime fantasies. It's frustrating and ridiculous, that a man he's never met has the ability to send him over the edge with a few well-chosen words and one extremely detailed photo of his body. Lu wishes he could see his face, and he's asked him several times, but beezee29 says he wants to maintain his anonymity. All he'll volunteer is that he's blond and has blue eyes, and this was only wrung out after nearly an hour of pestering. Lu has to admit that, after an hour, he would have just logged off until the heat blew over, but after all that, he got at least some of the information he wanted.

And he rewarded that with a picture of himself after beezee29's messages worked their magic on him, a blissed-out, debauched expression on his face and come splattered across his stomach and chest.

What he _really_ wants is to meet him—somewhere, anywhere, he really doesn't care where—and fuck him for real. These emails back and forth are great, but he's started to desperately crave something physical.

It wasn't like this with shotguns4m, no matter how hot he was—and he was. Sam was six feet four inches of solid, chiseled muscle that had Lu begging in minutes, puppy-dog eyes that made him shove him on the bed and ride him like a pogo stick, and a sweet little smile that finally sent him over the edge. But there hadn't been this dramatic buildup, no months-long teasing, flirting bantering and almost nightly masturbatory messaging before they actually met. He and Sam had only emailed for about a week before Sam said yes to him, and after that, it was only three more days until they met.

They'd met two more times after that, and then Sam messaged him, saying he'd started seeing someone. To Lu's surprise, he didn't feel anything akin to jealousy or possessiveness at the revelation. He just sent him a quick _No problem, hope things work out for you_ and that was it. That was months ago, and since then, he's had beezee29 to distract him.

And distract him, he has. Lu's asked a few times if he ever plans on meeting, and beezee29 always responds with a cryptic _maybe, we'll see_. Lu doesn't like the evasive answer, but there's nothing he can do about it.

He supposes, as a cute Brit accepts his coffee order and shoots him a quick wink, that he could just find someone else. It's just sex, after all—and it's not even sex. It's just mutual jerking off to some dirty messages with someone he's never actually met. He doesn't know why, exactly, but he likes beezee29 even though he doesn't even know the man's real name. He just tells Lu that his first initial is B. (This completely blows Lu's theory out of the water—his dad is prior Navy, so Lu's familiar with the term "Bravo Zulu" or just "BZ" as a way of saying "well done." He initially suspected that beezee29 was a Sailor, which would certainly explain how fucking hard his body is, but apparently he just likes to work out.) But he feels like, maybe, they could have some great sex, and he's not one to let go of something like that so easily. Whether or not it's what beezee29 wants, Lu's hooked, and he knows that even if he messages someone else, meets someone else, fucks someone else, he'll go slinking back to beezee29.

"You gonna be okay?" a gently chiding voice asks from somewhere near his left shoulder.

"Yeah, just fine," Lu says. He rolls his eyes at the brunette in the ponytail, another twenty-something named Ruby. She doesn't know what's going on in his life—no one else does. Not even his supposed best friend Warren knows how he spends nearly every night.

"You don't look it," Ruby says, her voice taking on a slightly more obnoxious tone.

 _Shows what you know_ , he snaps in his head. "You don't know me very well. I'm always okay."

It's a lie, though. When his phone vibrates in his back pocket, he straightens up from where he's been slumped behind the counter after the rush died down and checks his notifications.

 _1 New Email._ It's from Hook3dUp.com, telling him he has a new message from user beezee29. Unable to keep the grin off his face, he uses his phone's browser to check the message.

_Hey, there, love. I can't stop thinking about you this morning. See, I've been wondering if your cock is as hard as mine is right now ;-)_

Lu's grin widens. _Starting early today, are we? As a matter of fact, I'm at work, but my mind's been wandering to places it shouldn't be right now._

As soon as he replies, he stashes his phone again and purposely avoids Ruby's inquisitive look. He should know that won't stop her, though. "Who was that?" she asks, making a grab for his phone—he's almost positive it's just an excuse for her to grope at his ass.

"None of your business," he hisses, glancing around to make sure there aren't any customers watching. He couldn't care less if his coworkers or his boss see—after all, they're used to him and used to Ruby. The last thing he wants, though, is a customer complaining about them. He doesn't want to lose his job, because if he does, there goes his occupation during daylight hours. Bored Lu is Crazy Lu.

"You got a girlfriend you're not telling me about?"

"No," he says, dancing just out of her reach. It's not that he doesn't like women—he's bisexual. He just has a low tolerance for most female personalities, plus he really just wants to get laid. Most females aren't into the one-night-hookup scene or sex-sans-commitment scene. For him, it's just easier to fuck men when he has an itch that needs scratching. When he's ready to settle down— _if_ that ever happens—it'll most likely be with a woman.

"Boyfriend, then?" Ruby goes on, earning herself a scathing look from Lu.

"No," he repeats, tucking his phone down the front of his jeans. He's hoping Ruby will at least think twice about shoving her hand down his pants, but then again, it's Ruby. She's done crazier things.

"Then _what_?" she asks, eyeing the bulge in his jeans that has nothing to do with his dick.

"I told you. It's none of your business."

"I'll figure it out soon," she says. She leans back against the counter, crosses her arms over her chest, and gives him a dissecting stare.

He barely notices it, though. His phone just vibrated again, and considering its proximity to his cock, it's not astonishing when he jumps in surprise and his dick twitches in interest. He digs his phone out of the front of his jeans and turns his back on his coworker as he goes to read the new message from beezee29.

_Oh, you're a dirty boy today. At work? You should be ashamed._

He's well-aware that his "reading filthy messages" grin is on his face, but he can't help it. _Believe me, I am. Maybe you should punish me._

He has a mental image of beezee29 (though still having no idea what his face looks like) sprawled out on a bed, the duvet completely pushed off and the sheets twisted up from what was, no doubt, a medal-winning fuck-a-thon. He's lying there with his shirt on the floor and his jeans shoved down around his thighs (beezee29 mentioned not too long ago that he prefers going sans underwear, a fact that began taunting him immediately), fully exposing his body (which Lu has seen in somewhere around a hundred and fifty photos, all of which are saved on his laptop). His phone is in one hand and his cock is in the other, languidly stroking himself while he messages Lu. That thought is more than enough to get his pulse racing, and it does nothing for his smirk.

He puts his phone away as another customer approaches the counter and places her order. By the time Ruby finishes ringing up the order and Lu's actually made the coffee, he has another new message from beezee29.

_Maybe I should spank you ;-) but I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you? I'd have to get really creative with punishing you._

Actually, he _would_ like that. Lu's pretty uninhibited when it comes to sex—at fifteen, when most boys his age were awkwardly flirting with girls or coming to grips with their own non-heterosexuality, he was openly fucking half the cheerleaders and secretly on his knees for half the lacrosse team (and the latter only because most of _them_ were still trying to wrap their heads around liking guys). The point is, he's had eleven years to try basically anything and everything, and he knows he likes pain. A little spanking from beezee29 sounds perfect right about now. _Now I'm even more distracted, thinking of all the things you could do to me. What'll it be today? Bondage? Orgasm denial?_ He _really_ wishes he could cut out early and go home, if only to spend the rest of the day in bed with his fantasies.

Scratch that. What he _really_ wants is to meet beezee29 in person and spend the rest of the day in bed with _him_.

It's almost ten minutes before he gets an answer. _Good ideas all, but I was thinking of something a little bit different. I know how much of a masochist you are, so I'm curious as to what would happen if I went really slow with you. That would probably be a pretty good punishment, eh?_

Lu unconsciously bites his lip. Beezee29 is right—to him, slow is torture. It would be an excellent way to punish him. Against his better judgment, he admits, _Actually, yeah, that sounds like a really good form of punishment. I'd probably go crazy with your hands all slow and sweet on me._ Although at this point, he doesn't really care, as long as he gets beezee29's hands on him at all.

His boss sends him out to wipe down tables and he's on the third one when beezee29's reply comes in. _Who said anything about sweet? I'd hold you down and bite my way down your body and then lick ever so softly at the head of your cock._ Lu nearly moans in frustration and, again, wishes he was back home in bed to masturbate in peace. _And then I'd move on to your nipples, licking and biting, but not quite as hard as you like. And then after that, after I've got you insensible and whimpering and trying not to beg like a filthy little whore, maybe then I'll give you what you want._

As it is, he's trying not to whimper right now. His jeans are unbearably tight and he'd give anything to have beezee29 right there with him. They wouldn't even have to duck into the bathroom for privacy—he'd just let the man bend him over and pound him right across the table, in full view of the four or five customers who are still here after the rush and his coworkers and anyone passing by that particular window. He wouldn't care. All he knows is that it's been seven agonizing months and he's becoming more unstable by the day. He needs relief but, unless it comes from beezee29 himself, it won't do anything but frustrate him further.

But it certainly won't do to have him come in his jeans out here in the open. Leaving the rag on the table, he heads for the bathroom.


	2. The Body on My Screen, Part Two

He locks the door behind him, grateful that there's so few customers here—it means less chance for him to be interrupted. Pulse racing almost dizzily fast, he pulls the black coffee shop apron over his head and hangs it up before unzipping his jeans. He pulls his phone out of his back pocket and replies to beezee29's message.

 _If your intent was to get me to beat off at work, well done :D I'm currently in the bathroom with my jeans down._ So he's extrapolating a bit, but who cares? As soon as he sends his message, he shoves his pants down his hips a little and palms his cock through his boxers, wishing for what isn't the first time and certainly won't be the last time that beezee29 was here touching him.

The response comes fast. _You're even dirtier than I thought ;-) Yes, you'll definitely need to be punished. I'd pin you against the closest wall and lick your neck, no teeth involved, for starters._

Lu smirks and rubs his half-hard cock again, sucking his lower lip in between his teeth. _I could definitely handle that. In fact, I think I'd grind against you so you could feel how hard my dick is._ He pulls his phone back far enough to snap a quick picture and attach it to the message before he sends it.

He expects to see a photo in response with beezee29's next message, but there isn't one. _And how hard ARE you, dirty boy? Jerking off at work got you all worked up?_

Lu grits his teeth, letting out a groan of pleasure as he slumps back against the graffitied wall of the bathroom. He knows he really shouldn't be getting off on being teased like this, but he's definitely getting harder and he's slipped his hand past the waistband of his boxers. He pushes his jeans down to his knees before they pool into a pile of denim at his feet and nudges at his underwear until the elastic is around his thighs, releasing his erection. He's definitely more than half-hard now, and he can't suppress a shiver of excitement as, with his left hand, he hikes up his red work polo shirt to show off as much skin as he can. With his free hand, he takes another picture and sends it to beezee29 with the message, _Maybe this will answer your question ;)_

Without waiting for another reply, he wraps his fingers around his dick and gives it a few lazy, teasing strokes. He moans softly, letting his eyes close as he rubs his thumb over the head, smearing precome on the sensitive skin. Imagining that beezee29 is with him just makes him moan again, a little louder now, and he hopes there's no one outside waiting to use the bathroom, not that he'll be in here much longer anyway, at the rate he's going.

Then his phone vibrates again. _You are so stupidly hot it's maddening. What I wouldn't do to you right now... it's ridiculous._

He chuckles softly. _Why don't you tell me? I know how much you like it when I beat off for you ;)_

Lu can almost hear the frustrated tone in the response, and he grins as he pumps his dick again, harder now. _I want to shove you up against that wall and turn you around. I want to start stroking you off and grind my jeans against your ass so you can feel my cock. I want to bite your neck and shoulders and leave marks all over your skin. I want to hold you down while you come all over my hand and turn you around so you can see me lick it all off._

He moans softly, biting his lip as his hand frantically pumps his cock. It only takes a few seconds before the sweet bliss of orgasm overtakes him and, still giddy from endorphins, he takes one last photo of come all over his hand and stomach. _Oops. Too late. Maybe next time ;)_

As soon as he replies, he stumbles to the sink and starts scrubbing at his hands and torso before pulling his jeans and boxers back up. He slides his phone back in his pocket and his apron over his head, gives the bathroom one last cursory look to make sure there's no sign of what he's just done, and ducks out of the door, not even glancing at the guy who's been patiently waiting right outside. Lu wonders if he heard anything, but he doesn't look to find out—he's just dimly aware of a presence sidling into the bathroom behind him as he makes for the table he abandoned only ten minutes before.

Ruby gives him a smirk—she probably knows what he was doing, but she won't say anything—which he also ignores. In fact, he ignores everything except the tables he's wiping down so hard that it's another thirty minutes before he checks his phone.

He has a new email and two text messages. The first text is from his brother Michael. _Lu, just_ _wanted to give you a heads-up to be at the Yardhouse tonight at eight. I'm asking Rachel to marry me and I want both of our families there._

Lu blinks in surprise. He knew that Michael was serious about Rachel, and they _have_ been dating for two and a half years now, but the fact that Michael wants him to be there for the proposal is a huge surprise. They never got along all that well—certainly they didn't fight, but they've never been close or anything—but he knows this is important to him. _Yeah, I'll be there._

The second text is from his father. _Has Michael told you about the plan for tonight?_

It's just like him to make sure. Chuck Shurley didn't get to his position as CEO and president by sitting on his hands and doing nothing, that's for damn sure. _Yes, he did._ He tries to decide what he's going to wear—a suit or dress casual?—and adds, _What's the dress code?_ The Yardhouse's clientele range from uniformed Sailors to after-hours businessmen to average people off the street in jeans, so it could really go any way. He has a feeling that since tonight is a special occasion, jeans won't cut it, but he thinks a suit could be a bit much.

The email is another notification from Hook3dUp.com, alerting him to another new message from beezee29. _Damn, wish I could have been there to enjoy that ;-) Next time, though, you won't get off so easily._

He seriously doubts that. He snorts with laughter at the double entendre and pockets his phone again.

* * *

The Yardhouse is a flurry of activity later as the Shurleys—Lu, Michael, Raphael, and their father Chuck—and the Holmeses—Rachel, her sister Hester, and their parents—finally get to their table. It's reserved for ten and Raphael's brought his girlfriend Naomi along, and Hester has her boyfriend Uriel with her. Lu pretends he doesn't notice that, aside from his father, he's the only one who isn't half of a couple, but he really just wants to roll his eyes at them all.

But he knows he's expected to behave tonight, so he keeps his mouth closed and doesn't check his phone even though it's been blowing up in his jacket pocket. That would be in bad form and, even though he doesn't work for his dad's company like Mikey and Raph both do, he does know some basic etiquette for these situations.

Of course, Raphael (who's basically a stranger with the same last name as him) has to ask him why Meg isn't here, and Lu arches an eyebrow.

"We broke up. About a year ago," he adds sharply, and Raphael looks suitably sheepish.

Lu can't blame him too much for not knowing, though. He doesn't generally keep his family informed on his romantic life, such as it is. They _certainly_ don't know about his various hookups, and he has no desire to tell them. He has a feeling "By the way, I routinely exchange nude photos and sexual messages with strangers on the Internet" won't go over well. Besides, Raphael's job keeps him pretty busy. Hell, Lu didn't actually expect him to be here tonight. He was pretty sure Raphael was in Germany on a business trip.

No one presses the issue or mercifully asks what happened since this is supposed to be the night Mikey pops the question. His family is smart enough not to open up that can of worms, and Rachel's family doesn't know him well enough to want to ask, and he's grateful.

He doesn't know when Michael plans to ask, so when his phone buzzes in his pocket for the sixth time, he just excuses himself to head off to the bathroom and hopes his brother can wait five more minutes.

He doesn't know why he's surprised to see that every single message is a photo of beezee29. He bites his lip to hold back a smirk as he scrolls through them, the other man's body baring more skin until he gets to the end. It's a picture of him from the collarbone down, showing off every toned muscle in his chest and stomach, and one tantalizing peek past the curve of his hipbones. There's a message attached to that one. _No answer :-( Want me to stop?_

Actually, that's the last thing Lu wants. With a quick glance toward the main dining room to make sure no one from his table is watching, he replies, _Sorry, family dinner tonight. My bro's popping the question to his girlfriend, or else I would have answered. But believe me, I definitely want you to keep going ;D Gives me something to look forward to._

He tucks his phone back into his jacket pocket and heads back to the table.

* * *

The dinner, proposal, and dessert go off without a hitch even with the four new notifications his phone alerts him to. Rachel excitedly accepts and Lu is genuinely happy for his brother and future sister-in-law, and there's a round of congratulatory backslapping and drinks (on the house) before they all take off for the night.

"Want to share a cab?" Michael calls over as everyone else heads to their cars to other taxis.

Lu glances from his brother to Rachel and back. He really doesn't, actually, but he plays it off easily. "Nah, I'm good. I can catch the trolley and be home in a half an hour."

Michael looks like he wants to argue for a moment, but then he decides against it. "Alright. Be careful," he adds as he slides in next to Rachel and slams the door behind him.

He waves as the cab pulls away and begins the walk to the trolley stop, pulling out his phone and checking his messages. Just as he thought, they're all pictures from beezee29, and they're all unspeakably filthy. He catches a glimpse of a bit of neck in two and he's slammed with the desire to run his tongue over it. The last photo in particular has him trying not to salivate; it's all he can do to control himself.

He unbuttons the top two buttons of his dress shirt and is silently relieved that he declined to share a cab with Michael and Rachel. He couldn't act like this horny teenager around them and expect them to look him in the eye afterward. He wasn't even sure his family knew he liked guys. He'd only dated two in his life, and that was long after high school. He hadn't told them about those relationships, and any rumors Michael or Raphael would have heard about him at school (most of them completely true, but irrelevant) were greatly suppressed by the other parties. Starting-line lacrosse players (and the lacrosse captain) generally wanted it kept quiet that they were getting blown by another boy at school.

But he's made peace with his past and doesn't regret it. In fact, he thinks he's lived more than his brothers, although he's not stupid enough to say it to their faces.

By the time he makes it home, he's good and worked up, pointedly avoiding looking at everyone he passes and rushing into his apartment building as fast as he can. He takes the elevator up to the seventh floor and closes the door to unit 727 before letting out a strangled gasp.

He shrugs out of his jacket and loosens his belt on his way to his bedroom, grateful for the soundproofing he had installed three years ago, right after he first moved in. Meg was a screamer (and he's not exactly quiet himself), so it's ended up being a worthwhile investment.

As soon as he's seated at his computer, he pulls up the actual site and sends a message to beezee29. _Just got home. Hope I'm not too late ;)_

Almost immediately, the reply comes in. _Never too late, love ;-) I knew you'd be back soon._

Lu grins, strips off his dress shirt, and slithers out of his pants. _Just for me? I'm honored!_

_You know, I've actually been wondering for awhile now what your voice sounds like._

Hope floods through him even though the message seems to come from out of left field. _Oh, really? ;D Interested in a face-to-face meetup?_

_Maybe, but for the moment, I was thinking of just exchanging phone numbers. It might make the sexting a little easier, too ;-)_

He's a little let down, but he has to admit that he's been curious about beezee29's voice as well and how it might sound as he came or how he could actually murmur filthy things in his ear, and he acknowledges that it's better than nothing. _Sounds good to me ;)_ He sends his phone number, too. He's not too worried about it, since he has a surprising amount of trust for this guy considering he's a stranger on the Internet, but if things do happen to go south, he can always change his number.

As for the nude photos, it's possible those could surface for blackmail, but the thing about blackmail is that you have to have something to lose, and Lu can't say he has much dignity left to speak of.

About ten seconds later, his phone rings. It's an unknown number with a local area code.


	3. Chapter 3

Lu reaches out, fingertips trembling ever so slightly, and picks up his phone. He taps the answer button and puts the phone up to his ear. "Hello?"

"Evening, love," a low, enticing voice practically purrs in his ear, and Lu very nearly falls out of his chair.

"You never mentioned you were British," he says lamely, registering the man's accent as a grin spreads across his face in spite of his sudden, irrational onset of nerves.

"Oh. I suppose I didn't. It didn't even occur to me that you didn't know."

"Heh. Surprise."

"Indeed." Beezee29's voice— _Holy fuck, that's his actual voice_ , and it doesn't take much imagination to figure that his sinfully smooth speech will make an excellent seduction tool—drops a bit. "That's not a problem, is it?"

They haven't even moved on to the actual phone sex and already, Lu's getting way too hard for comfort. He spins in his chair and slinks to his bed, settling himself in the middle. "No, not at all," he answers, hoping he sounds cool and aloof but knowing he probably doesn't.

"Good. That would certainly be a shame." His tone is light, teasing, and Lu can't help but grin a little more.

"So. You never told me what your actual name is," he points out after a moment.

"You're right, I didn't."

"And I went through all the names I could think of that begin with 'B,' and I've got it narrowed down to Brian, Benjamin, Brendan, and Boaz." He adds the last one as a joke, because he can't think of any parents who'd be cruel enough to inflict _that_ name on a kid. Still, the "BZ" part of his username hints that it could actually be his name.

"Boaz?" The other man snorts with laughter, and it's a gentle one that has Lu melting a little. "Heaven forbid. I have no idea how you came up with that one, but that is most definitely _not_ my name."

"I thought, because of your username being 'beezee29'..." he starts, and his voice trails off.

"I see. No, that's not my name—actually, none of those are—but I like your logic." He's quiet for a moment, and Lu takes a breath to prompt him for an answer, but then he's saying, "It's Balthazar, actually."

He rolls the name around in his head. Surprisingly, he finds himself _fond_ of it. It's certainly unusual, but no more unusual than Lucifer. He smiles. "I like it."

"Really?" Balthazar asks, and he seems genuinely surprised. "Can't say I hear that too often."

"Surprise," Lu jokes. Now he feels like he's smiling a bit too much. The lighthearted air of this whole conversation doesn't necessarily lend itself to a nice over-the-phone wank, but he realizes he's okay with it. Talking to him, figuring out what his name is, actually hearing his voice is pleasant. They're getting comfortable, breaking the ice.

Then he wonders if prostitutes crack jokes with their clients to dispel any awkwardness. _Then_ he wonders if he'd be the whore or the john in this case. He decides he doesn't like this train of thought and quickly jumps off. "But that's not what you called to talk about," he adds, knowing full well what the man actually _did_ call to talk to him about.

"That's one way of putting it," Balthazar says after a languid, brain-melting laugh. It's ridiculous how, with a few words that don't even have seductive intent (at least, not on the surface), Lu suddenly remembers that, oh yeah, they're really going to have phone sex right now.

And that laugh of Balthazar's already has his mind racing, his fantasies filling in the gaps, and it's only too easy to imagine him letting out that laugh as he teases Lu dangerously close to orgasm, so close and yet so far, just enough to have him writhing, nearly insensible with need to release, but not quite letting him go over the edge. That laugh would drive him mad, laughing as he watches Lu struggle, desperate to come and frustrated to be denied, and now that he can actually hear Balthazar's voice, knows what he sounds like, it's even easier to imagine him laughing as he leans over him and breathes, "You wanna come, don't you, love? Well, I'm not ready for you to finish. I've got plans for you, and we won't be done for _hours_ ," and God, Lu would groan, nearly sobbing because he's aching, the sheer fucking _need_ to come rendering him incapable of doing anything but lying there and making unintelligible vowel sounds.

And if _that's_ not enough to snap him back to the reality of what's about to happen, nothing is.

"So you said you're home, then?" Balthazar asks now, either not noticing or choosing to ignore what was probably the most embarrassingly hormone-related distracted silence of his life. Lu guesses it's the latter and he's trying to move things along since Lu already told him that he was at home.

"Yeah, just getting comfortable. You?" he asks, and he suddenly wants to smack himself because he sounds like a nervous virgin right before his first time and that is _so_ not becoming of a man who's been having sex for eleven years.

"The same, actually. Long day at work. Had a stop off at the coffee shop not too far from my place, though. That wasn't so bad. But I definitely need to unwind," Balthazar says. There's a definite teasing note in his tone, one that has Lu grinning because he knows exactly what he's hinting at.

"Yeah? What did you have in mind?" _Now_ he's starting to feel a little less awkward. It's just like their raunchy emails, except instead of _reading_ all the filthy things Balthazar wants to do to him, he gets to hear the man whisper them in his ear. His dick hardens in anticipation and he lies back, letting the fingertips of his free hand trail down his side.

"Well, ideally, I'd be getting ready to fuck you right into the mattress, but as _that's_ out of the question..."

 _It's not_ , Lu thinks, but he slips his hand into his boxers and palms his cock anyway, biting his lip to hold in the sounds.

"I guess I'll just have to make do with listening to you do it yourself," Balthazar finishes.

"Oh, yeah?" he breathes, giving himself a lazy stroke before shoving his boxers down around his thighs. "You get off on listening to other people getting off?" He's half-joking, but it suddenly occurs to him that this could legitimately be the reason Balthazar's been so hesitant to meet him in person. A voyeurism kink doesn't really bother him, though—there's a lot, sexually-speaking, that he's cool with.

"No, just you," he says, and even though it's probably a lie, Lu can't bring himself to care right now. He's too busy feeling slightly smug about it on the off chance he's telling the truth.

"I see," Lu murmurs. He pumps his cock again, harder, and lets out a pleasured, audible sigh for Balthazar's benefit. "So why don't you tell me what you're planning on doing to me _this_ time?"

There's a rustle of fabric and the telltale sound of a zipper being unzipped before Balthazar breathes, "Well, I was trying to decide if I wanted to fuck you hard and fast or drag it out really slowly."

Lu bites down on his lip and strokes himself before he can answer, but he's pretty sure Balthazar is doing the same thing. "To be honest, I'm in the mood for hard and fast."

The other man gives a breathy laugh. "Somehow, I thought you would be. God, what I wouldn't give..." Abruptly, he moans, a choked-sounding moan, as if he'd tried and failed to muffle it, and that sound is enough to make Lu pump his dick faster, wishing again that they were doing this in person.

He doesn't get it. He accepts it, but he doesn't fucking understand. It really seems like Balthazar's into him, like he really would prefer to be with him right now. There's something he's not telling Lu, that much he knows for sure. He's missing something; there's got to be some reason Balthazar won't show him his face, some reason they aren't meeting to fuck like rabbits, some logical fucking explanation for this mystery-man act he has. Damned if he can figure it out, though.

 _Maybe he's married_ , Lu thinks. Some of it adds up with that reasoning—the hidden face, the way he avoids mentioning relationships; Lu told him about Meg and Sam and a few others, but Balthazar hasn't told him about anyone else. But other parts don't mesh with that theory. Balthazar always seems to be available, either on his phone or online. His bedroom—what Lu's seen of it from pictures—definitely looks like a single man's room.

Then Balthazar's whispering, practically growling, "I want to shove you against your bed and bite your neck and pull your fucking hair until you're begging for more," and Lu decides he doesn't have enough free brain cells to devote to solving this particular mystery right now, not when he practically feel Balthazar's teeth on his neck.

"Yeah?" Lu says, hating the way he sounds like he's almost whimpering. "What about after? What're you gonna do after I'm begging?"

He chuckles softly, and it's clear to both of them that he's back in charge. "It depends, love. What are you begging for?"

Lu swallows. He's having an impossibly hard time thinking, coming up with anything even remotely hot, so he settles for the first thing that comes to mind: "I want you to fuck me."

He can't quite discern the sound that Balthazar makes next, but it doesn't matter because a moment later, he's saying, "Begging for it already, eh?" and the playful taunting in his voice is painfully apparent. "I think it's a little early for that right now. I haven't even finished telling you all the other filthy things I want to do to you first," he says, and Lu grits his teeth and reluctantly releases his cock, too close to blowing his load already. He's torn between wanting this to last and needing to come, but he knows he'd be embarrassed at the minimum by coming this early.

"Like what?" he pants, dragging his thumb over the head of his dick and shuddering in pleasure. He sounds wrecked already, and he hopes it doesn't translate over the phone.

Balthazar groans, and then he breathes, "I want to find out what your cock tastes like. Mmm, I want to suck your cock, just hold you down and lick you, listen to you moaning, feel you grabbing my hair and ramming your cock down my throat until I make you come," and it's all over for Lu. He cries out, hand automatically going back to his dick and pumping harder than ever; he can't stop thinking of how fucking amazing it'll feel to have Balthazar between his thighs, sucking his cock with what is no doubt a skilled tongue and years of practice. He wonders how Balthazar's hair will feel between his fingers, how long it is, how soft his lips are, how sweet it'll feel to _finally_ come under Balthazar's touches instead of his own.

He moaning louder now, pumping his cock with one hand and pulling his hair with the other, fantasizing about that foul-mouthed, dirty-minded British tease. He's eighty-seven percent sure that Balthazar is sex incarnate, but he's absolutely sure he wants him right this second and knowing he can't have him is beyond frustrating, well into the realm of the worst kind of torture. "Oh, my God, baby, yeah, you're gonna feel so good, so fucking hot," he practically whines, not consciously aware of what he's saying as he jerks himself off. He's mindless, thrusting into his hand, groaning as he teeters right there, on the brink of orgasm, and then he hears from far away, from the phone he didn't realize he dropped next to him on the duvet, "Oh, Jesus, love, _yes_..." and that's all it takes. Listening to Balthazar in the same state as him pushes him over the edge and he cries out again, pumping his cock to ride out his orgasm, coming so hard he's grateful to be lying down or else he'd collapse.

The waves of pleasure subside and the afterglow sets in. Lu becomes dimly aware of the come smeared across his skin but he merely laughs dizzily as he reaches for his phone with his non-sticky hand. "Not bad," he jokes once he's verified that Balthazar is still on the line.

"I'll have to agree," the other man says, and Lu knows he can hear a smile in his voice, too.

The strawberry blond opens his camera app and snaps a quick photo, being sure to capture the whole debauched scene (including his devilish grin), to send to him. As soon as he sends it off, he puts his phone back to his ear. "What a way to blow off some steam," he adds, and as he hoped, Balthazar laughs.

And then the other man sucks in a breath. "Jesus, love, that's so bloody _hot_."

Lu's grin widens. "I try." He stretches, his limbs leaden, and he briefly acknowledges that he should probably shower or something before going to sleep, even though it isn't even that late. He glances at his phone's clock to verify that, yes, it's barely nine-thirty. But he's masturbated twice today and had an eventful day otherwise, so he has to admit that his deep, contented exhaustion is probably warranted. "Mmm, I'm gonna shower and sleep, okay?"

"Yeah, I should probably do the same. I'll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?"

Lu smirks. "Count on it." Somewhat reluctantly, he cuts the connection and slides off the bed to charge his phone before stumbling to the bathroom. He _definitely_ needs a shower.


	4. The Voice on My Phone, Part Two

His dreams that night are disjointed and hazy, but when Lu wakes the next morning, the first thing he feels is a wave of contentment. He doesn't typically remember his dreams, but he can tell that they were good.

Then he opens his eyes and remembers that he's alone in his bed, and he thinks maybe he dreamed that Balthazar was sleeping next to him because the next thing he feels is a surge of disappointment. But he tells himself it's stupid to think like that and he rolls out of bed, yawning and running his fingers through his hair.

He doesn't need to set his alarm anymore—he automatically wakes up at seven every day, unless he spends the night before drinking and carousing until all hours. As he stumbles to the bathroom to brush his teeth, he realizes that it's been awhile since he's woken up hungover, maybe two months. That's quite an accomplishment, considering he used to be a party animal. Then again, he's choosing his friends better now. _Maybe I'm growing up_ , he thinks.

Then he snorts with laughter. _Yeah, right._

As he scrambles some eggs for breakfast, he checks his phone. There's a few emails and text messages and one missed call from Raphael— _there's a surprise—_ but nothing from Balthazar. He skims through the emails and answers the text messages before dialing Raphael's number to call him back. He wonders what his brother wants.

"Lu?"

"Yeah, bro. What's up?" He focuses on the sizzle of the frying pan for a moment, if only to distract himself from how awkward it is to talk to his family on the phone. Michael and his father are both ridiculously formal during phone conversations, and Raphael isn't much better. They aren't so bad with texting, but...

"I just wanted to ensure you returned home safely."

Lu feels his eyebrow quirk up of its own accord. "That's it?"

Silence for a moment. "Well, yes, and... you seemed distracted at dinner last night, especially after I inquired about Meg. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine. Like I said, that happened awhile ago. I'm over it."

"But you seemed—"

"There's a lot going on right now," Lu cuts in smoothly, not letting Raphael finish. "It's complicated."

"Oh." Another moment of silence, and Lu wonders if that's the end of it. But he knows his family and knows it's too much to hope for. "Would it help to talk about it?"

He sets the spatula in the pan and turns off the burner. "Uh, not really. It's..." How much should he say? Nothing at all is probably the wisest option, but his family has always been "share your feelings with the class," especially after their mother died, so he knows that a dodge won't really work, not if he wants Raphael to never ask about this again. Considering they were never too close to begin with, he isn't quite sure what to say and what not to say. "Relationship stuff, I guess," he says, opting for the heavily-watered-down version.

"Someone new in your life?"

His knee-jerk reaction is to say yes, but he catches himself. He and Balthazar aren't in a relationship. They haven't even _met_. "Sort of. It's complicated," he repeats.

"I see," Raphael says, even though Lu is pretty sure he doesn't actually see. "Well, if you need to talk about it, you can always call me."

The strawberry blond closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Raph, before I saw you at the restaurant last night, I thought you were on a business trip. We're... not that close," he says finally.

"We're family," his brother insists quietly. "I didn't know about you and Meg, but you don't tell us anything."

"It's my life."

"We're a part of it, Lu. I'm not saying start working for Dad or anything—I know you hate it there. But at least check in. We're interested in your life. Before I saw you at the restaurant last night, I wasn't even aware you would be there."

Lu presses the phone to his ear with his shoulder before giving up and putting it on speaker. He sets it on the counter and grabs a plate and a fork. "Look, I... I know I don't tell you guys everything. But I tell you the important stuff, okay?"

"Meg wasn't important?"

The words fly out of his mouth before he can stop them. "Not to me."

He holds his breath, wondering what Raphael is going to say about _that_. "You were seeing her for almost two years."

"A year and a half, but sure, why not?"

"You didn't care about her? You weren't upset when she...?" His voice trails off, as if unsure how to put it.

"I _cared_ about her, yeah. And I was a bit upset, but I wasn't devastated. I wasn't in love with her. It didn't matter. We both moved on."

"I see. Well, if something comes of... whatever is going on in your life, let us know."

"Yeah," Lu agrees, but he knows that's not going to happen—neither anything coming of his relationship with Balthazar, or him actually telling his family about it. He doesn't think his family will be too happy to find out he likes men _and_ women. "I gotta go. I'm about to eat."

If Raphael can sense the dodge, he doesn't comment. "Alright. Have a good day."

"Yeah, you too." Lu hangs up and dumps his eggs onto his plate. If this morning is any indication, he's in for a long day.

Over the course of the next four hours, he fields calls from Michael, his dad, and Warren. He's surprised by all but Warren's call. Apparently, his family has decided to band together and get him to open up about his life, because his conversations with them go roughly the same as the one he had with Raphael. He wonders when they all had this brainwave, and if it was an agreement or if they were acting on their own.

Talking with Warren is less awkward than talking with his family, but not by much. Apparently, Warren is dating someone new, too—a woman named Eve that he really seems to like, which is a change. Of course, it only reminds Lu that he hasn't gotten even an email from Balthazar all morning. Normally, he'd have sent something by now, and although he's not unduly worried, he's curious. Maybe he inadvertently freaked him out without realizing it.

As soon as he hangs up with Warren, he saves Balthazar's number and toys with the idea of texting him. He decides against it, though, at least for the time being. If he doesn't hear from him by tomorrow, he'll attempt to establish contact.

* * *

He arrives at work for the afternoon shift and pointedly ignores Ruby's inquisitive stare. He has no idea why she's looking at him like that, but it's irritating. It's not like he's late or anything. His shift starts at one, so he's actually a few minutes early.

Promptly at one-thirty, his phone buzzes in his back pocket, but he doesn't notice it or even get a chance to check it until nearly two. When he does, though, he grins. It's from Balthazar.

Making sure Ruby can't see his screen, he pulls open the message and his grin widens. _Good afternoon, love. I hope your weekend has been going well ;-)_ Attached is a photo from the other man's phone, a shameless selfie of his chest, collarbone to tantalizing hipbones. Oh, that's _definitely_ a nice picture.

_Well, it wasn't bad, but it's definitely better now_ , he sends back, peeking up to see if Ruby's looking at him.

She is, an eyebrow raised. The grin slides off his face as she asks, "What's _that_ all about?"

"Nothing."

"Right. Your not-girlfriend."

"I swear to God—"

"A man doesn't look like that at his phone unless he's talking to the girl he's fucking. Or at least _wants_ to be fucking."

"I missed the part where it's your business," Lu snaps, feeling his phone buzzing in his pocket again. He hopes it's Balthazar, but at the same time, he's the reason he had that stupid grin on his face in the first place.

"Hey, if you're getting laid, I want to be able to stand by with a cake that says 'Congrats on the sex.' God knows you need it after Meg."

_The sex or the cake?_ he wonders, deciding Ruby knows far too much about his personal life at this point. "Right. You are _definitely_ not allowed to be within fifty feet of me if you have a cake that says 'Congrats on the sex.'"

She rolls her eyes. "Come on, Lu. You can't honestly expect me to accept that. There's something going on and you're not telling me."

"Yeah, and if I'm not telling you, it's for a reason," Lu says. He hopes Ruby will just drop it so he can check his phone.

She lets out an exasperated sigh and tugs a hand through her ponytail. He recognizes the gesture—she's trying to come up with another plan of attack, the nosy woman. Lu decides to cut the rest of this conversation off before it can begin by pulling his phone out again and opening the message, taking care to make sure Ruby can't see it.

_Excellent. Fancy a call later?_ comes the response with another picture of Balthazar. This one is all abdominal muscles and clearly-unzipped jeans dragged halfway down hips and more than enough exposed skin to have Lu unconsciously licking his lips. He's not sure what he did to deserve this kind of torture, but if he ever finds out, he'll gladly do it again.

He contemplates sending an aloof, cryptic message in reply, but he really can't be bothered playing this game now. It's too much effort to play hard-to-get when they'll both know it's a lie anyway. _Absolutely._

* * *

For the second night in a row, he finds himself sprawled out across his bed, painfully alone but with Balthazar's voice breathing in his ear. Listening to him narrate the depraved things he wants to do to him is more than enough to get him hard, but knowing that the other man is also at home by himself and jerking off to these fantasies as well gives it a jagged, desperate edge that has him groaning, imagining it's Balthazar's hands all over him.

He spares a few seconds and a few brain cells' worth of attention to wonder, yet again, why they aren't doing this in person. They clearly have a lot of sexual chemistry—seven months of correspondence is enough to attest to that. Balthazar has quite an imagination, too, with the way he describes all the ways he wants to fuck Lu. There's absolutely no reason for this ridiculous "mystery man" bullshit—if he wants a discreet affair, Lu has no problem keeping it to himself. Unless Balthazar is secretly more rich and famous (not that Lu's really the latter, but he's definitely the former) than he is, their roles should really be reversed, with Lu being the one to hide his identity. But if he's operating under the pretense of Balthazar having been completely honest with him up to this point (and he has no reason to suspect that it's not the case; he has a sixth sense for when people are lying to him), then Lu's positive that, to the world at large, the other man is just some random person.

Maybe, he thinks, Balthazar feels compelled to hide his face because he thinks he's unattractive or assumes Lu will think that. If that's the case, he wishes the man would give him a little more credit than that. Sure, he can appreciate a hot guy, but there's a lot more to sex than just two (or more) gorgeous people going at it. Besides, he's got an amazing body, one that would more than make up for it if he really wants to play the superficial card.

But then Balthazar lets out a needy moan and breathes, "Jesus, love, wanna fuck you so hard... fuck you 'til you scream," and Lu's thoughts snap back to the present moment with more force and speed than a cut rubber band. He can so easily visualize the other man stroking his own dick, groaning as he thrusts mindlessly into his hand, pretending it's actually him, and it sends a thrill of mingled satisfaction and arousal through him.

Lu's back arches, hips raising off the sheets, and his languid pace quickens as he lets out a small moan. He's filled with a desperate want, a craving to have Balthazar rammed deep inside him, to feel the other man releasing inside him and claiming him. He imagines how good it'll feel to be skin-to-skin with him, prays it will even happen. He wants it so badly he can taste it, and he has to bite down on his lip to keep himself from groaning out the other man's name. He closes his eyes, concentrating solely on the sound of Balthazar moaning (he's panting and gasping and Lu can tell just by his voice that he's close to coming, right there at the edge) and he hears himself crying out, and apparently it's all Balthazar needs to hear because he gets louder, and there's a higher-pitched moan that Lu recognizes from last night: the other man is coming. Lu's mind drifts to imagine him riding out his orgasm, thrusting into his hand, rocking his hips as he comes, and he slips too, pumping harder and letting out a satisfied moan as he climaxes.

For nearly a minute, he lays there, his come sticky and drying on his skin as he tries to catch his breath. He knows Balthazar hasn't hung up because he can still hear him breathing on the other end, but the other man doesn't speak for a short time.

"Well," he says, but with no indication that he's going to continue.

"Well," Lu agrees, dragging himself into a sitting position and reaching for the tissues next to his bed. It's high time for another shower, but he can get the excess mess off first.

"I've been thinking," Balthazar starts again, and the bottom nearly drops out of Lu's stomach. He has a feeling he already knows where this is going, but he swallows his disappointment and asks the obligatory question.

"About what?"

He's silent for another moment. Finally, hesitantly, he asks, "Are you still interested in meeting?"

This isn't at all what Lu expected initially. He fights to contain the hope that surges up inside him. "Of course," he says as nonchalantly as he can. And then a thought strikes him. "But I don't want you to feel like you have to. If you're not comfortable with it—"

"That's not why I'm suggesting it. I don't feel pressured, love. We should do it."

He grins, suddenly feeling as giddy as a teenager. "Are you free this weekend?"

"I am," Balthazar says, and the smile in his voice is evident.

"Great. Are you okay with meeting at a hotel? Neutral territory," he explains.

"Which hotel?"

"The Imperial on Twelfth."

There's a beat of silence. "I can't afford that."

"I can. Don't worry about it."

"Lu—"

"Please. Balthazar, I can handle it."

"I don't want you to think I'm using you."

"I don't think that. I offered, after all." He's brought three other people to the Imperial Hotel before this, and none of them fought him like this. They all practically jumped at the chance, especially after they found out Lu was paying the entire bill. It'xs almost endearing that Balthazar is so worried over what he'll think.

"Alright. If you're sure."

"I am sure. I'll text you with details once I make the reservation."

"Alright, love. I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah. Good night."

"You, too, love."

Lu hangs up and pulls on a robe. It's only after he's dialing the number for the Imperial that he realizes he likes it maybe a little too much when Balthazar calls him "love."


	5. Intermission

He has a week to back out, and he's on the verge of dialing the other man's number to do just that at least four times, but he stops at the last second. He has no idea why he's so nervous—it's not like him at all to stress about something like this—but knowing that he's nervous just makes him even more nervous.

That's a lie—Balthazar knows exactly why he's so nervous. He's worried that Lu won't like him for long. He doesn't want to get his hopes up, to delude himself into imagining more could come of this than what probably _will_ come of this. He just knows hoping will lead to disappointment, so right now, hoping that this weekend will be enjoyable is the most he _wants_ to hope for.

But now is not the time to worry about what might or might not happen. He made lunch plans, and he promised that this time, he'd actually show up. Right now, it's time to tell his best friend what exactly he's been doing with his free time.

* * *

He leans back in his seat, folding his hands behind his head in an exaggerated display of nonchalance. Castiel tilts his head to the side to see past the mirrored shades hiding the blond's eyes, but his attempts are fruitless. "You're sure?" Castiel asks finally, giving in.

"He already told me his name. I Googled him. The name and face match. It's him."

The other man casts a quick glance around before leaning in toward Balthazar. "One of the Burgan-Hines heirs is sexting you, and you're just going to be so... blasé about it?" he hisses.

Balthazar raises an eyebrow. Okay, so he'd been surprised when Lu told him his last name and it sounded familiar. He'd been stunned to Google the name and see dozens of photos—albeit clothed ones—of the man he saw naked through personal pictures. He'd been floored to discover who he really was behind that well-crafted internet persona. But, in the end, the fact that Lu has truckloads more money than Balthazar initially thought didn't faze him. He isn't a gold digger. He'd liked Lu before this revelation. He just hopes Lu likes him, too, at least a little bit.

"Well, we've actually set up a face-to-face meeting." One where they'll actually meet, not where he runs into Lu at work and the other man has no idea who he is. He's slightly embarrassed that he's done something that creepy, but there's nothing to do about it now.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Balthazar has liked Lu for a long fucking time—basically since he first saw his profile on . He remembers that his account had him listed as a redhead even though he was definitely strawberry blond (the site didn't have that option, and a lot of people couldn't tell the difference, but there definitely _was_ a difference). His income level had been left empty, but that part had barely registered. He first messaged user sillysatan on a whim and was surprised when he actually messaged back. Through their messaging, both the sexual and the casual, he's learned a lot about Lu: likes, dislikes, what he's passionate about, even a little of his family and his past. He's almost sure by now that Lu only sees him as a sexting buddy, a bit of fun, and his stomach clenches painfully at that, but it's what Lu wants from him.

He can pretend the man wants more, though. To this end, he's played it cool and aloof, only showing off his body to keep Lu interested. Then they exchanged numbers, because he really wanted to hear Lu's voice, wanted to listen to him moan as his orgasm floods through him, brought off only by the sound of Balthazar's voice and his own hand.

But God, listening to it for the first time was something else entirely, something he hadn't expected. It's made him crave actually touching him in a way he's never felt so intensely before. He wants to feel their skin in constant contact, wants their bodies slotted together, _needs_ to feel every inch of him possible.

So, even if he finally loses Lu's interest after this, after the anticipated three times they'll fuck (he knows even three times might be generous—Lu probably has dozens of others falling over themselves to have him, and even though they've never discussed it, he's not stupid enough to think he's the only person Lu's been messaging like this for the past seven months, even though Balthazar hasn't so much as looked at another user), he's ready to face reality. He wants Lu so badly he can practically taste it. He'll offer himself to him and let Lu use him and throw him aside like he no doubt will. At this point, he doesn't even care how much it'll hurt—he's tired of denying both of them what they want.

So he finally agreed to meet Lu face-to-face, and a few hours later, the man sent him an address and a time, and that's that. Now it's just a waiting game.

"Yes, actually, I _do_ think it's a good idea."

"It could be a trap."

"I highly doubt that. Who has more to lose from this meeting, him or me?" Balthazar points out. Nothing in Lu's biography on the Burgan-Hines company website even hints that, hey, this one likes men, so Balthazar is pretty sure that Lu is fairly secretive about it. Balthazar doesn't blame him for it, and he certainly doesn't expect Lu to out himself for him—that would be too much. For all Balthazar knows, Lu's family is ultra-conservative and he needs to closet himself for the sake of appearances. If Lu were to get caught in this rendezvous with Balthazar, Lu could stand to lose everything. He doesn't want that, though. He doesn't want to be the one thing that ruins Lu's life.

That thought on its own is enough to make Balthazar want to cancel this whole affair as well, because no matter how much he really wants to sleep with Lu, he's a responsible adult and the only life he should destroy by doing it is his own.

"I suppose I see your point," Castiel says.

"And what else could he possibly want from me? I've got eighty dollars to my name and a shitty Volkswagen. I don't even own my flat. I have no influence or ties to anything in his world." Balthazar shrugs. "But he still wanted to meet me."

"Wait, _he_ set this up?"

Balthazar nods. "He's actually wanted us to meet for awhile. I've just been telling him no."

"But _why_? I thought you said you liked him."

Oh, poor Castiel, so naïve in the ways of the real world. Castiel's been with the same guy for five years, and he fell into it almost by accident. He didn't have to flirt or play hard-to-get or anything. It just _happened_. Balthazar is going to have to break it down Barney-style for him. "I _do_ like him. That's the point. It's all been to keep him interested."

"But... doesn't that just defeat the purpose? I would probably lose interest if I was in his shoes."

"You don't have a profile on a hookup site," Balthazar says. "That kind of ploy wouldn't work on someone as sweet and innocent as you. Lu is neither of those."

Castiel sighs and shakes his head. "I still don't understand it."

Balthazar supposes it makes sense from one angle and zero sense from another. He just doesn't know how to make Castiel see it from his angle. "It doesn't matter. The point is, it actually did work on him." He doesn't want to go into the other details besides "sexting buddy," because it's a sure way to earn a trademark reproachful Castiel Collins look, and Balthazar is sick of those. You're not friends with Castiel for eight years without receiving your fair share of those looks.

"I see," Castiel says, even though it's clear he doesn't see. "So you changed your mind, then."

"Yeah, exactly."

"Why?"

"We exchanged phone numbers."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"It does, if you think about it. What does one normally do with the information provided by a phone number?"

"Call people."

"Exactly."

"So you... called him?"

"Yes."

"I still don't see what you're getting at."

It's Balthazar's turn to sigh, and he rubs the bridge of his nose as he does so. "I called him. I spoke with him." He pauses for a long moment as he tries to figure out how best to explain it without really explaining it. "Other things happened, and I realized that, like it or not, the relationship as it currently stood was drawing to a close. One of two things were bound to happen: either we stop talking to each other, or we meet and... well, take it from there. I opted for the latter, because I at least want to know what could happen." Undoubtedly some of the greatest sex of his life is what will probably happen, but he doesn't say that. Castiel will probably turn bright red and pretend he didn't say anything.

It's not that Castiel is a prude or anything, either—Balthazar has had to sleep on Castiel's couch often enough to know that when he had his boyfriend have sex (which seems to be quite a bit), Castiel gets quite vocal and quite demanding. He just prefers to keep his sex life solely in the bedroom (or, Balthazar supposes, elsewhere around the flat, but certainly not out in public).

Castiel nods like Balthazar is finally making sense. "So after your meeting with him, what will happen with you two?"

Balthazar sighs again. "I haven't the foggiest. I suppose it'll become clear after the meeting, eh?"

Castiel doesn't seem appeased by this answer.

"I don't bloody know. What will be, will be, alright? I can't ask for more than that."

"What do you _want_ to happen?" Castiel clarifies.

"I want to be happy."

"With him or without him?"

"Yes."

Castiel rolls his eyes. "That's not an answer."

"It's good enough."

"It's not. Do you want to be with him or just be done with it all?"

Balthazar is suddenly grateful for the oversized sunglasses, because Castiel can't see the way his eyes drop to the table for a second. "It doesn't matter."

"It does."

"Whatever he wants is what I'll live with."

Castiel narrows his eyes and tilts his head, and it's the look he gives Balthazar when he knows Balthazar is being a deliberately obtuse dunderfuck. "That's not an answer, either."

"Fine. I want to be with him, alright? I like him a lot. But if he doesn't feel the same way, I'm not going to try to change his mind. It certainly won't endear me to him if I try. So whatever he wants from me is what I'll live with."

For the first time, a flicker of pity crosses Castiel's face. "I see," he murmurs. "I hope he doesn't hurt you."

Balthazar hoped that, too. "It's nothing I can't handle. I'm a big boy—I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to meet him." He didn't and he still fully doesn't, but there's no need for Castiel to know that. "I'll be fine." That's a lie, too. He probably won't be fine at all, but he's gotten awfully good at pretending.


End file.
